Auld Lang Syne
by Mandi96
Summary: After the events of "The Empty Hearse", Molly reflects on her new relationship with Tom and what it means to have Sherlock back in her life.


**A/N: I haven't written anything for about 3 years now. Seeing the new episode has changed that. My head is brimming with ideas, and this story would not stay in my head. This is my first time writing for the Sherlock series, even though I've followed the show since the first episode. Please enjoy.**

I'm not blind, and I'm definitely not stupid. I am highly aware of everyone's reactions to Tom. I knew it would happen, and I was prepared to deal with it. My friends exchanged knowing looks and giggles behind my back. My parents, the only people in my world who didn't know about my crush on Sherlock, welcomed my first "real" boyfriend with open arms. My co-workers rolled their eyes behind Tom's back whenever he came to pick me up from work.

I kept Tom well away from anyone closely tied to Sherlock. During my weekly get-together with Mrs. Hudson, I told her about Tom, but never brought him to visit. Detective Inspector Gregson I never saw outside of work, and even if he happened to see Tom waiting in the hall for me, I don't think he ever connected the two of us together. John Watson I was never close to in the first place. I don't think he knows (or cares!) anything about me, other than I am someone who needs "protecting" from Sherlock.

He didn't realize that nothing protected me from Sherlock – not even my own common sense. But he tried, and I admire him for that. That and the fact that he is the only one besides Mrs. Hudson that Sherlock cares deeply about.

I was dreading the day that I would introduce Tom to them. The looks, comments and giggles have finally died down now that Tom has been in my life for a year. But it all came up again last night, when I brought Tom to the "Welcome Home Sherlock" party.

I know that Tom looks like Sherlock. The curly hair, the high cheekbones, the jacket and scarf that he insists on wearing, even though I've asked him to get rid of them. They remind me of Sherlock, and Tom is nothing like Sherlock.

I admit I was first attracted to Tom because of the resemblance. I'd had a crush on Sherlock for so long that I suppose it was only natural. Though as I began to get to know him, the differences solidified in my mind. I never told him about Sherlock. He didn't need to know. Sherlock was gone, and even though I knew he was still alive, being away from him for so long allowed me the time to sort through my life and realize he would never love me.

The whole process had started earlier, after the infamous Christmas party. He had deduced everything, except the most important thing. That's how far off his radar I was. Ever since that night I'd been drawing back, examining my heart. The final separation was what did it. I gathered up all my hopes and shattered my own heart. I buried the pieces, and all that was left over was our friendship. I would still do anything for him, but I know nothing will ever happen further between us. I grieved, and I healed.

It took six months, and then I met Tom. When we started dating, I was very strict with myself. He resembled Sherlock so much that I had to be sure it was Tom I was falling in love with, and not a reincarnation of Sherlock. I was so happy when I realize how different they are.

Tom likes dogs, and owns one. If Sherlock were ever forced to get a pet, it would probably be a cat. Tom follows and is a fan of almost every sport under the sun. I think Sherlock is aware of sports, but only as far as things that help him with his deductions. He certainly doesn't have favourite teams or players. I can tell Tom all about my life and my day, and he actually pays attention, sympathizes and gives advice. I'm sure that anything I say unrelated to the current case or body, goes in Sherlock's ear and out the other. Tom is sweet and constantly apologizes, even when things are not his fault. The only apology I've ever gotten from Sherlock was at Christmas, before he kissed me.

They are nothing alike, and I was pleased that I'd managed to move on. Until yesterday. Or did it happen earlier, at the moment when Sherlock appeared behind me at my locker? I think I was fine then. I was happy that he was back, but no more. My first thought was what he would tell me about Tom, what he would uncover. And I was afraid.

I had the next few days off. I got a text from Sherlock asking me to come around to Baker Street. I did. He wanted me to solve crimes with him, to be his stand-in for John (even though he tried to convince me otherwise. He even called me Joan a few times!). He was so nervous about asking me, and I foolishly thought for a moment he was going to ask me to dinner.

For all that, though, it was an amazing day. I'm used to seeing Sherlock in the morgue or in the lab. I knew his brilliance, I knew his deductions, but I knew him as a scientist. Yesterday, I saw him as a detective. I saw him interact with people, and even if he's not the best at dealing with people (and I'm hardly one to judge), he's more... human... when he's outside the lab/morgue. Most people think he's just an arrogant sod, and a part of him is. There was even a moment, when the train man's back was turned, when he joked with me. We exchanged smiles and silent laughs. Then, as we turned back to the screens, I realized I was in trouble.

The Sherlock I knew, cold and cruel, I had mourned and moved on from. This was a whole new Sherlock, and I found a familiar fluttering in my heart. With a shock of dismay, I realized I hadn't thought of Tom all day!

I decided I needed to know why he asked me to help him today. It was our first, real conversation since he left. I told him I couldn't keep solving cases with him anymore, and he understood. He was sweet and gentle. He _thanked_ me, for the first time in our strange relationship. He laughed and joked with me, and he kissed me.

I shoved all my emotions deep down inside myself, and I came home. Tom greeted me with a kiss, as usual. I cooked him dinner, we took the dog for a walk and watched telly, all as usual. We went to the "Welcome Home" party the next day. Tom was excited to finally meet the great Sherlock Holmes. It was a nice, quiet, party.

Part of me wonders why Sherlock hasn't "deduced" Tom. I know he has, but he usually tells the world his deductions. Maybe there's nothing to deduce, or maybe he's learned his lesson and is being kind. I'd rather know, because Tom is the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life with.

It's been one full day since the party. Tom took the day off so we could spend it together. We went shopping, and Tom was patient and helpful. We had lunch out, the waiter spilled water on Tom and Tom apologized for being clumsy. Tom insisted on taking me to see the new romantic comedy, although he knows I prefer action, he was trying to be sweet. We went to the pub for dinner, then took the dog for a walk.

As I'm sitting here writing this (I keep a journal now, not an online blog. It's helpful to get my feelings down on paper, even if I don't want to share with the world.), Tom's dog is chasing Toby around the sitting room. I'd try to stop it, but the dog never listens to me. Eventually Toby will find a hiding spot, and then we can both have some peace and quiet. The barking is becoming so loud. I miss the quiet.

I AM happy with Tom. We are going to have a wonderful, ordinary, peaceful life together. I will not let myself fall for Sherlock again. I can't.

**A/N: I want to make it clear that I don't think Sherlock thinks the things Molly thinks he thinks. But this is from Molly's point of view, and this is what she's convinced herself of. I'm eager to see where the relationship goes from here on.**


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